In lands of lofty mountain peaks
God deftly weaves the Aspen trees
through evergreens, with spires high
in crisp, thin air over clear blue skies.
Upon His loom yellow leaves are spun
like fine gold threads until they’re done
a golden weave of shimmering shock
sunlight flashes through dark forest stock.
We who believe are like golden trees
where the light of Truth can be received
by those who wander in forests blind
unable to see the Truth defined.
From the Vine the Spirit spreads
through intricate roots, connecting threads
of hope and peace, from darkness to light
from sin to redemption, and glory bright.
golden sun rises
through webworm's web on pecans....
crows wait harvest
poetry free zone
unabashed quiet haven
delicious blank stares
golden light recedes
a gentle sigh the breeze makes~
nature`s cycle spins
the day`s orb, once fierce
now tells a quieter tale~
mountains a witness
tall trees toss a moan
summer reign reaches its end~
time begins to bend
before amber blush
leaves sing with a buzzing sound~
the sky lends its ears
sunbeams softly fade
cicadas cease their loud tunes~
stillness in the night
birds prepare for flight
warmer climes waiting for them~
summer`s sweet farewell
summer softly close
a string of moments held dear~
memories remain
a final warm breeze
carries scents of sun baked earth~
harvest time at hand
air, once thick with scent
carries cool whispers to space~
a prelude to fall.
1497 Aug-Sep No 2 Poetry Contest. Brian Strand
A bed of golden flowers spreads across blades of grass
It's like a blanket of sunshine on the ground
A resting place waits without a sound
Soft, comforting, unlike the broken glass
Pieces of glass, those sharp memories left behind
As views of blurred miles are passed
The wheels of change turn, oh so fast
Old thoughts, new thoughts, pass through my mind
A bed of golden flowers remains fresh and new
Thriving safely, freely, on the way
Highlights such a beautiful, clear day
Offering peace with a bright, stunning, view
There is no return to what was lost
Only today, as precious time moves forward
Although there's proof of being no coward
Knowing the bed of flowers will fade with the frost
8/30/26
(C)opyright
As sung to the tune of
Help Me Make It Through the Night
The Original song was sung by Kris Kristofferson
Once gold was my long blond hair
But summer's changes turned to fall
Now there's wrinkles on my skin
Lines of memory of it all
Yet you're still here by my side
Love by day and through the night
Flyin' fast, our walk-through time
Hand in hand walk in the Light
And we're still singin' our song
Though baby, I don't understand
How yesterday's tomorrows,
On earthly plains, somehow must end
Many tomorrows are gone
That were once far outa' sight
With you, I've never been alone
Lovely days of golden light
Lord, I'm grateful for this life
Lord, I'm grateful, I'm his wife! <3
Happy 49th Anniversary Jerry, I love you!
A 49th Anniversary song (Sort of a parody!?) to my beloved husband Jerry, from his loving wife, Betty Jo.
As sung to the tune 'Help Me Make it Through the Night'
Original Songwriter: Kris Kristofferson.
wild winds start to sigh
dancing leaves in hurried swirl
nature's ballet grand
golden leaves descend
whispering secrets to earth
a gentle farewell
sunlight, softer now
paints the world in amber hues
nature's final blush
geese fly overhead
a journey to distant lands
their calls mount to sky
pumpkins in the field
waiting for joyful harvest
sweetness from the soil
apples ripe and sweet
juice drips down the eager chin
taste of autumn's joy
longer shadows creep
as the day begins to wane
peace rests in the soul
scent of wood smoke drifts
carried on the crisping air
old memories stirred
misty mornings rise
veils of white across the land
quiet beauty seen
crisp air fills the lungs
a cleansing breath for the soul
preludes winter`s hold.
My ancestors believed witches had magic
My ancestors worshiped a golden calf
I'm embarrassed, such folly is tragic
I shake my head and have to laugh.
Today between females and males there are no lines
We say we can surgically change either side
We can power our cities on wind turbines
And Israel's guilty of genocide.
We can always squeeze more from the rich
We know there's always money to burn
No hurdle, no obstacle, no hitch
40 trillion debt, no need for concern.
So we're so much smarter than those shepherds in the rocks
They worked for their money, thought nothing was free
Fought off invaders, and tended their flocks
Could they have been closer to reality?
I have no beef with your God
(unless it's The Golden Calf)
who they may say
works in mysterious ways
but I take umbrage at those who claim
to speak on his or her behalf
and here's a laugh
'No graven image' was handed down
yet they're here there and everywhere
all over town
The chilling wind begins to
softly sigh,
As golden leaves fall down from
branches high.
Golden Maple leaves
Skim along the pond's hard face
In the cold knowledge
That dreads with winter's approach-
Harbinger of snowy dunes.
Winner: 2nd Place End of Summer, Beginning of Fall Tanka, Tania Kitchin (Sponsor) 8/27/26
hands soft like cotton
you touch my cheek to kiss me
instantly love struck
BOAT
BOAT
floats on
swift water
childhood adventure
that cheers up now,as then
the memories of the past
"The memories of golden years"
Little fish with scales of
gold,
Swims through water clear
and cold,
Splashing with a leap so
bold!
I saw a little cup
at the museum today.
It wasn’t like the others,
even though it was clear
that it belonged.
For this little cup
was different.
It had a golden crack.
It was once broken,
but a craftsman
took the time
to patch it up.
It was whole again,
but yet the scar, remained—
much like a life well lived.
The two really are the same.
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